Seasons
by valinorean
Summary: :: For Revision :: Draco lets go of Harry so he could find his true happiness. What will Harry find at the end of his journey? :: Harry/Draco SLASH :: Unbetaed, written pre OoTP
1. Part One: Winter

**Seasons**  
_by valacirca_

**Part One: Winter**

I used to hate winter.

When I was young, my father never allowed me to play in the snow. We never made snowmen or snow angels or even go skiing in the Alps. Winter was the time when my father taught me much about the Dark Arts. It was during winter that some of the most powerful magic could be tapped and used by wizards of low ability like me.

I was young then. Things have changed. When I became strong enough to tap that powerful magic without waiting for winter to come, my father gave me something wonderful. I have treasured it since then. But it was winter too when he gave me that knowledge.

He taught me how to call the winter fairies.

I remember that time when I saw my father finally smiling, relaxed and truly happy. He watched how the winter fairies came fussing over me, dragging me in their wild, wild dance. They are small, just about the size of my hand and they emit not light, but sparkles. Borrowing the silver beams of the moon, it would seem from one watching far away that the stars have come down from the heavens for me.

It was then that I believed in magic. Magic that was not created by anyone. It was the innate magic of our world.

I was near the Forbidden Forest when he found me. Over a year has passed since we graduated from this school of magic. I've been visiting Snape since then, checking on how my friend and fellow Death Eater was faring. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he was visiting old Dumbledore and Hagrid that winter too.

"Hey Malfoy," he sauntered over, smiling. "You didn't tell me you're coming here. I passed by Professor Snape and he told me you were out here."

"Hello to you too, Potter." I replied, not bothering answer the implied question.

If someone told me a year ago that I'd be talking to Harry Potter sans the insults, I would have thought them mad. As it is now, we are more than 'on speaking terms.' Against nearly insurmountable odds, we have become friends.

It started when we were in our fifth year in Hogwarts. I and a few other Slytherins were out to get Potter, with a little…urging from our Death Eater parents. At the end of our fourth year, we were recruited to join the ranks of the Death Eaters.

At that time we wanted to do something to serve our new master and show our loyalty. We wanted to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord and almost succeeded had not the teachers found out. We were never _severely_ punished, but our actions directed us to a punishment that made us reflect on our lives.

I don't know how the others fared then, but I learned that Dark Magic need not be evil, and power does not always lend itself to evil. That was when I realized I joined the ranks for the wrong reasons.

My father was the one who presented the idea to Voldemort to attack Potter using us. So naturally, it was my father who received the punishment for our failure. But the evil of Voldemort's intent runs deep. He chose to inflict punishment to where it would hurt my father most. He chose to pass the punishment to me.

I dare not recall how painful it was. I could not even remember most of it.

All I remember now is that it was Potter and Snape who saved me. I don't know how they did it. And I don't intend to find out more than I need to know if it means that I have to relive the memory of the pain.

I did know that I was to die a slow and painful death, and my father was devastated. He knew he could not go against the Dark Lord's wishes. It was the basis of strength in our order. We follow the chain of command, if one from the top falls down, others must take over lest the whole system falls.

My father was at the very top at the time. The higher you go, the more severe the penalty. And he knew that it was his due punishment, hard as it was for him to accept that, and I understand. But it was Snape who finally broke away from the ranks. And when he got me back to Hogwarts, it was then that I learned that _he_ was the spy that we were after.

I didn't hand him to the Death Eaters, or to Voldemort. A life for a life.

As for Potter, yes he did rescue me as well, but I never wanted to owe a debt of gratitude to anyone. A life for a life.

When the final battle came, it was I who saved Potter from my fellow Death Eaters. Hiding him, countering curses unknown to those who do not practice the Dark Arts. But it was I who led him to Voldemort. After all, I still am a loyal Death Eater.

I thought the final battle has to be fought by them alone. But it never happened that way. The Order of the Phoenix had come to his aid and they were able to defeat Voldemort. With the fall of our Lord, the other Death Eaters disappeared while others fight to the death.

Only I remained. But I was never sent to Azkaban, I was still very young.

Instead, they opted for 'reform.'

With the coming of the war, school bcame on hiatus. When they resumed a year later, we were able to take our seventh year. It was at that time that he and I became friends. It was then that Potter became Harry, and I became Draco.

"Draa~co!" he was waving his hand in front of my face. "Geez, I guess all this snow really did freeze your brains, huh?"

"Shut up, Potter." I replied without any head, turning my head the other way to gaze at the forest.

"Anyway, what _are_ you doing out here without your winter cloak?" he snorted and walked a little closer. I heard the shuffle of cloth and felt a warm cloak drape across my back. I turned to look at him, he was wearing another set underneath.

"Thanks," I mumbled under my breath.

He sighed. He knew I was in one of my 'moods' again. He never really got around to finding out how to break my so-called 'melancholy moods.' How could he when I never felt the least bit sad? I was merely reflecting on things…most of the time, anyway.

"Harry," I began. "Have you ever wanted to learn the Dark Arts?"

He looked at me as if I had just suggested that he jump down a cliff without his broom. But he answered seriously anyway.

"No Draco, I never want to learn it."

I don't have to ask why. I already knew.

"They were all sorry you know, those who're still alive anyway," I said softly. I heard a hitch in his throat and continued. "Yeah, I've been keeping contact with them. And I don't plan on telling on them so don't you try going to Dumbledore and force me to tell where they are with Veritaserum."

"Wh- Why?"

I expected this, his reaction. But what I didn't expect was that I'd be telling him this in the first place. So I told him the best thing I could. The truth.

"Did you know that in the archaic days, there are also Death Eaters?"

I found out this small piece of information in my father's vast library. I proceeded to tell him what I found out.

The original Death Eaters were an elite group of individuals, powerful individuals able to cast Dark magic. In those days, the Dark magic that they were able to wield was more powerful than the ones that were not forgotten and still used today.

But their secret society was bound by order, a system that they didn't question. A system they dare not defy. And in there lies their trust, strength and secrecy. Utter secrecy is needed, because they were the most powerful wizards of their time, more powerful than anyone could ever conceive.

"But they were not evil. They were merely powerful," I said. "It was Voldemort who used the name Death Eaters and made them evil. The reason why today's Death Eaters mostly came from old wizarding families is that they were descendants of the original Death Eater Society. That was where their loyalty came from. We were never bound to Voldemort to begin with, except for the Dark Mark."

"Draco, why are you telling me this?" He seemed so unsure, almost as if he fears me.

"Because I wanted to show you this," I whispered.

I cupped my hand and caught a slowly falling snow. Bringing it close, I whispered to it the very same summons my father taught me over a decade ago. It was time someone allowed them dance again.

Slowly I watched as astonishment cross Harry's face as one by one, the snowflakes started to sparkle, grow and sprout wings. In a few seconds, the softly falling snow became alive. Dozens upon dozens of winter fairies came alive, waking up from their long slumber, stretching their arms and wings.

Harry ran behind me grabbing my shoulders, as if trying to hide from the things I summoned.

"Draco, what are these?" he hissed in my ear.

"Fairies." I replied simply.

"I can see that," he said rolling his eyes. "What I meant was that how did you get them to come here?"

"Dark Magic," I replied, "of the purest kind"

He stared. Then he leaned in closer, as if trying to view the fairies better. He was so close; I could even smell his hair. Apple shampoo.

We both watched fascinated as the fairies started their dance. Wild and free, they flew all around us, and some went even over the Forbidden Forest, like a disappearing star. The dance shifted and before we knew it, they were moving away from us. We watched from a distance as the dance ended and what ensued next was nothing I have ever seen them done before.

They started a snowball fight with each other.

In a matter of minutes, Harry and I were both laughing.

"Cute aren't they?" I asked.

"No," he said as his laughter died. "The're beautiful."

I nodded. I thought so too.

He never did let go of my shoulders. Instead, he leaned in and rested his chin on my shoulder and we continued to watch the dancing lights. An added warmth.

"But you told me they came from Dark Magic," Harry murmured in my ear, still obviously fascinated with the fairies.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, that the Dark Arts are not evil."

"Then why call it Dark Arts?"

"Because no one knows when and by whom these spells were created. They're just…really old, that's why."

"But how come most of them are for evil purposes?"

"Because in the archaic days, the wizarding world was still in chaos. Wild magic abound, innate magic from the earth, and there was a need to control them. Really Harry, haven't you been reading _Hogwarts, A History_?" I said mimicking Hermione's voice and he poked me at the sides.

"Shut up," he said chuckling. "But that doesn't explain why these fairies are a form of Dark Magic."

"They're not," I said. "These are the innate magic from the earth that took form. All summoning spells were originally a form of the Dark Arts. But this form of summon, to be able to summon a form of innate magic, that's one of the purer forms of the Dark Arts."

He became silent for a while. Finally he said, "I don't know if I understand it, all I know is that it's beautiful."

"Then don't, not right now anyway."

We grew silent again for a while, enjoying the companionship.

"Harry," I said after a while, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

I take a deep breath.

"Do you ever feel that there's something missing in your life? Like something about your family that you wanted to know, or something about yourself that you wanted to find out? Or something you wanted to fill, to make up for something you've lost?"

He nods.

"Find it. Promise me you'll find it."

He looked unsure. He didn't understand. But I can live with that. That's why I'm telling him, I wanted him to find out on his own.

"Just promise me you'll try to find happiness, ok?"

He nods again.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

And that was enough for me. Being the former Gryffindor that he is, I knew that he'll try to keep that promise no matter what. Even if he didn't understand what I asked from him.

Setting him free had been the hardest thing I've ever done, even if he didn't know that I was doing it at that very moment. He takes these things lightly. But this isn't for me to decide. No. It's for him to understand what I wanted him to know. Only then will I truly gain what I wanted most.

Him.

I smiled, and we walked back to the castle leaving the winter fairies to their dance.

I knew I had to let him go.

But did he know?

Did he realize that I was trying to say goodbye?

I hope so.

For my sake.


	2. Part Two: Summer

**Seasons  
**_by valacirca_

**Part Two: Summer**

Summer storms.

It was one of those days again.

It had been raining a lot lately. Not the chill-your-bones type of rain, but the refreshing right-after-a-hard-and-sweaty-game-of-Quidditch rain. The one that's good for the soul. And God knows I need it. Badly.

I didn't know that he was saying goodbye then.

Only now after months have passed that I realise it. I never heard from him since then. I don't know who to turn to, to ask for help in finding him. Ron and Hermione, although they've become his friends too, wouldn't know. They usually ask me where he is if they needed him for something. Snape wouldn't tell me, and Dumbledore said he too didn't know, though I highly doubt that.

Why have I been looking for him in the first place?

I wanted to tell him that I think I've found out where my happiness is. That I think I've found out what's been missing in my life.

After that night in the borders of the Forbidden Forest, my thoughts have been haunted by the promise he made me do. I became aware of the constant aching to find such truths in my life. The foremost hit closest to home.

After graduating, I took the first practical job offer that came along. Quidditch. Being famous has a lot of ups and downs. I got offers for modelling, commercials and even permissions to do a movie about my life (and I'm only 20!), but none of those appealed to me. At least with Quidditch, I have the natural love for the game. But I don't intend to play Quidditch all my life. I feel that I could—should do a lot more. And that's what brought me back to the promise I made.

What would make me happy?

A few months ago I decided to quit the team to find out what I really want out of my life. But they wouldn't let me. My teammates, our coach, my manager, the owner—they don't want me to quit the team for a reason I can never fully understand, nor can I really articulate. So they decided to give me a year off, and I accepted.

The first thing I wanted to do was find out who I really was. I began to look for my family's history. The first person I thought of to ask for help was Hermione, for obvious reasons. And more convenient too since she was pursuing higher magical education under the supervision of Dumbledore in Hogwarts. There, we could get our hands on most of the books we need, restricted section or not.

For a year, we raked through all the books in Hogwarts for anything that would concern my family's history. And well well, look what I found.

It seems that the _Potter_ family line is a short one, but we later found out that the _original_ Potter family came from the branching of the _Parthenes_ family in Greece. Hermione did a little study of the Greek language—not as fluent as she would have wanted, but enough to piece together some of the puzzles in my family line.

Now the Parthenes family had a quiet history. Nothing pivotal or greatly influential. More of an…existence. It was like saying that we…are. Just another proof that my father came from a long line of wizarding clan. I wasn't particularly disappointed, but considering the build up I got from people saying '_Potter? _The _Potter!_' all the time, I guess that I was expecting something more.

I guess I could say that I'm _in _one of the most pivotal points in the History of Magic, not that I'm proud of anything I didn't exactly do. It's just a fact. And I think I have to come into terms with that certain fact about my life.

But that perception changed one night.

During one of our 'off days' when Hermione and I weren't really doing anything, we got a visit from Ron who was holding a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. Of course the initial banters and jokes about the book were never lost but after that, it became quite…interesting to say the least.

With Hermione and Ron being my two best friends, it seemed natural for me to confide in them anything and everything. In one of our usual small talk, the topic of Death Eaters came about, which was quite a sensitive issue for Hermione. She had been one of the targets of the Death Eaters being a Muggle born herself.

But things have passed, and we need to start anew.

I don't know why, but maybe it was because of the fact that Draco was a friend who just happened to be a Death Eater himself, although not directly involved with the attack on Hermione, that I jumped to his defence. I began to tell them what he told be about the Death Eaters and the true reason as to why powerful wizarding families are sometimes associated with the Dark Arts.

Because of that conversation, Ron developed an unhealthy interest in Death Eaters. I never really knew his motivation on the subject. Probably because it involved Hermione. Or maybe because he came from an old pureblood family himself. But for whatever reason, he seemed to devote a part of his time to actually _research_ on the subject. And his enthusiasm on the subject could almost rival with his enthusiasm with that of Quidditch. Almost.

But anyway, the first thing he greeted us with that night was a two-line verse from the said book.

_"Listen to this, it was a translation from an old wizard poem: And so through our darkness, Death we choose to consume; for the spring of creation shall soon follow." Ron said. _

_Hermione and I blinked. "So?" I asked. _

_Ron rolled his eyes as if the answer had been obvious from the very start, which would have been if we knew what his focus was then. _

_"See," he said pointing out the words from the book. "Death and consume. Death Eaters. Darkness. Dark Arts." _

_"Okay…" I said slowly. "And the next part of the verse would mean…?" _

_"That's that I wanted to know." He turned to Hermione. "Hermione, I know I'd be asking too much from you…" _

_"Yes, Ron. I'll _try_ to help you with it," she said with a sigh. A motivated Ron is sometimes quite hard to dissuade. "But you'll have to tell me first anything else you know about that verse," muttering silently about us having a great deal of interest in books only after we've graduated. _

_Ron gave her his most grateful smile. _

_"Well," he said, wanting to start right away, "if you must know, this came from the first chapter: Pre-Hogwarts and Arcane Knowledge and was just mentioned by passing. And oh yeah, I think this'll help you a lot. The poet's name was Ioannes Parthenes." _

_There was a *thud* as the book that I had been reading hit the floor._

The following days were a flurry of activity for us. Mind activity that is. Books and scrolls of old Greek texts and manuscripts were piled high. We pored through everything we could get our greedy hands on. My motivation was that I wanted more knowledge about my family. Ron's was about Death Eaters. And Hermione? She was doing it for pleasure. All our hard work paid off when we were able to finally put together everything, and we were able to draw the same startling conclusions.

That I am a descendant of a Death Eater.

It didn't come out as a nasty shock though, after all the research we did on the Death Eater Society of the old days. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I'm _pleased_ to know that I am a descendant of a Death Eater, provided that people don't associate me with Voldemort's twisted resurrection of the Death Eaters.

So there it was, the better part of my hiatus from Quidditch was spent in a small corner of the library in Hogwarts. At that point in time I thought that I made good my promise to find that missing piece in my life.

But I guess that wasn't it.

I returned to playing Quidditch soon afterwards thinking that I'd finally be content and happy, that a huge hole in me has been filled. But soon, discontentment came back. It became clear that the hole that has been filled was only my curiosity.

Now I look back thinking: why was it so important for me to learn who I am based on the long line of my family?

I think I have begun to understand a part of it. Acceptance was a key factor in doing that research. I remember him asking me to find something that would make up for something I've lost. At first it thought it was all about me, my identity, and how I could come to terms with that.

Now I realize that it had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Of course, learning everything I could about my family was an added bonus. But I know my friends wouldn't have cared less if I came from an old wizarding family or a Muggle family, because they made friends with _me_. I know that it wouldn't make a difference to the way I play Quidditch if I knew I was a descendant of a Death Eater or not.

Somehow, I guess my subconscious mind was working on some level.

I think at this point it's safe to assume that I've been attracted to him. Attraction that was easily dismissible. But as I've said, it was my subconscious mind that was doing all the thinking, and that attraction was resurfacing.

I thought that if I knew where I came from, I'd have more confidence. I knew that he came from a very old and powerful widarding family and he seems to take great pride in that. I wanted to prove to him that I am from one of the old and powerful ones too. Call me insecure, but I guess that's how it is. Somehow, I thought that if I could prove that point to him, he would accept me into his elite circle that I've only probably imagined.

How that sort of logic came to my mind? I have no idea.

I guess I've been searching for something all along, it's just that I don't have a clear notion of what I was looking for. I didn't even know that I've been searching until he spelled it out for me.

_"Do you ever feel that there's something missing in your life? Like something about your family that you wanted to know, or something about yourself that you wanted to find out? Or something you wanted to fill, to make up for something you've lost?" _

_I nod. _

_"Find it. Promise me you'll find it." _

_I was confused. I didn't understand. _

_"Just promise me you'll try to find happiness, ok?"_

Happiness.

But what is happiness? Is contentment? Is it bliss?

I really don't know. But at this point all I want is to find answers. And I think I'm starting to formulate the answers, and the picture was becoming clearer. It's like a jigsaw puzzle I think, with really large pieces. The pieces were there, taking form but somehow, the largest piece that connects them all to make a clear picture was missing.

Perhaps it's more than safe to assume that I'm attracted to him. In fact, I think it's more than just plain attraction. It's time that I reconcile my subconscious desires with my conscious needs.

I think—no. I _know _the missing piece.

Now I think understand him, what he was trying to tell me that night.

If he were to ask me then, I would have said yes. But he didn't. Instead, he gave me a very precious gift that night.

He gave me freedom to grow, to spread my wings.

He's like my summer rain. Refreshing, cleansing…good for growth.

I look up at the softly falling rain, wondering if the same clouds have passed him by today.

Draco, there's something I wanted to tell you.

I've just figured out what's been missing in my life.

Where are you?


	3. Part Three: Autumn

**Seasons  
**_by valacirca_

**Part Three: Autumn**

The leaves were golden that day, I remember it all too well.

How could I forget? At that one instant, my life changed.

I thought that realization was the hardest thing that happened to me, because then I may have lost my chance. Then I thought acceptance was the hardest.

I was wrong.

Trying to find him was.

Simply because I refused to believe that he was lost to me.

Twice had the leaves turned gold on me since he left. Twice had the leaves turned gold before I realized that I needed help, not from any friend, nor anyone I know. Only from Fate. Fate who was so fickle and had the power to decide when was the time to be kind and when was the time to be cruel to one such as me.

Still I held on to Fate, believing in Her deceiving comfort. Believing She will bring him back to me.

I remember the leaves that fell golden that day I vowed to find him. They have turned green with time, and now they are golden once more.

I have been played the fool by Fate.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands, Fate be damned. Destiny shall have to conquer her deceptions and misguidance. Destiny, I believed in. I used to hold Destiny on the palm of my hands.

No other thought had conquered my mind with this much passion. It had become an obsession for me. It came to a point that I have forgotten why I was seeking him in the first place. I sought him with utmost urgency and need that my life fell crashing down around me. First a piece, then another and another and another…

The first thing I ditched was Quidditch. It was holding me back. I could not concentrate as my mind replayed every game we had from our Hogwarts days, playing against one another. The nostalgia brought me down to the ground. The demanding hours for practice kept me from my search. And ultimately playing became a hindrance that I thought should be eliminated as soon as possible. So I did.

Communication with friends and family had been cut off next. It came to a point that Sirius had to come to my flat to beat some sense into me. He did one day, only to find it empty and cold, different from the homey and comfortable mess that it usually was. It was the mess that made the house alive. Now it was as if no one lived there anymore.

I was there when he visited of course. How else would have I known it? But it wasn't just the house. I too was empty and cold. And that's what made the difference.

I kept tearing down my life, piece by piece, until none was left save for the foundations: my two best friends.

I was thankful for Hermione and Ron. They had been the strongest voices of reason around me. They were the ones who kept everything from crumbling down all at once. But in the end no one could save me from my madness. Not even them.

That was my fall from grace.

I felt guilty for giving them much discomfort. I've become cold, but still very much capable of feeling. And I didn't want them to see what I have become. So I pushed them away. Hard.

The next few months were spent going around both the Muggle and the wizarding worlds. I was a regular face at the Leaky Cauldron. And was starting to eat away on my resources. In time, I knew my vault in Gringotts would be wiped clean, and then I would have no chance or means of finding him.

So I became more desperate.

One day, during my stay at the Leaky, I thought my guardian angel was sent down to catch me. And he was sent in the form of a former Death Eater, substituting for old Tom.

_"Why do you do this to yourself?" _

_I blinked stupidly at him. He gestured at my forehead. _

_"The brand that he gave you was different. It needs to be held with honor." _

_And then I saw the Mark on his arm as he reached across to hand me my drink._

When I first realize what he was I wanted to grab him, to shake him. I wanted him to tell me where I could find the one who caused me this madness. I'm glad I didn't, because he would have given me what I wanted.

_"Find it. Promise me you'll find it." _

I would have broken my promise to him. I would have found him, but I would not have been happy.

I have reasons to believe that the Death Eaters have risen once more, this time without a Lord or Master. I believe that they have become what they should have been in the first place: the wise and silent watchers. And I have a pretty good feeling who was behind all that.

And I'm glad.

I started to piece my life back together afterwards because I knew that he would not have wanted me to lose sight of things that are important to me. Of course, finding him was of utmost importance, but other than that, I have my friends, my family (or what was left of it) and my life as I see fit to live it.

With the help of the people I've pushed away, I was able to build a stronger foundation with them. This time, I swore that nothing, not even I, could ever break it down. These are the people I love, and they have become my foundations once more.

Only I wish that he could have been there to see it.

Now there's only one thing that's missing again.

Him.

Then I remembered my angel who was sent to guide me, so that I may clearly see my path once more. I came back and showed him what I have become.

"I see that you are now worthy of bearing that mark."

"But what of you? Aren't you supposed to be from that ancient and secret order and all that good versus evil thing?" I felt stupid asking that.

"No. This—" he said, gesturing to his arm, "—was his brand. But the name is now held with honour among us, and with utmost secrecy"

"Then why do you tell me this?"

The bartender was silent for a while. Then at last he spoke.

"Have you heard of the tale of the winter faeries?"

It was then that I realized that I _should_ have trusted to Fate. She, together with Destiny, has woven an intricate pattern in my life that I have tangled. They had been trying to untangle the threads that tie me to him so they could weave a better pattern.

"It was said that there lived a family of Summoners. Summoners are wizards who can call spirits and other unlikely creatures at their will. But they favour most the winter faeries, because it was said that whenever someone in their family dies during winter, they turn into snow to become winter faeries.

"Every winter, someone alive from their family would summon the winter faeries to allow their ancestors a chance to live even just for a while. Then they would again put them back to sleep until the next winter comes."

My heart started racing.

I knew at that instant that patterns on Fate and Destiny's loom is nearing its completion.

And I knew too that the golden leaves are falling outside.

There's no other place that I could think of except for the small stretch of land on the borders of the Forbidden Forest. I think it was instinct that told me to find him there. Or maybe it was the fact that I know not where else I could wait.

I set a silent vigil as I watch for his return.

As I look back, I realize that it was I who had prolonged the agony in my heart. But it might have been a blessing in disguise. If I were to repeat it all over again, I wouldn't have changed a single thing, because I wouldn't have realized the true value of my happiness.

But sometimes I wonder, why should my world have to revolve around my happiness? The answer to that evades me, but this one thing I know: I would never be truly happy if I do not to share it with him.

So in the last few days of fall, I waited silently for the first stirring of winter winds come to view. My heart has just experienced its own winter, and no doubt fall. But the best fall I've had was for him and him alone.

Now I look forward to spring.

A new beginning.

I wait silently as a lone figure in black approach.

Three years ago, in this very same spot, came alive some of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. This time, I hoped that I'd be the one to set them free.

_Like what he did to me._

And to me they shall return willingly.

_Like the way I did to him. _

And I knew then that winter would be colder this year. But I now have an added warmth. The colder the winter, the brighter the spring. There'll always be something to look forward to.

_"Have you found it?" _

And the last rays of autumn disappear from the horizon.

_"Yes," I whispered, "I've found you."_


End file.
